


The Story Of How Gandalf Became Dumbledore

by AnotherNormalA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherNormalA/pseuds/AnotherNormalA
Summary: My headcanon that Gandalf and Dumbledore in a short story.





	

He looked back at the shore, where Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Tuk were standing, crying over having said their final goodbye not only to him, **Gandalf** , but to Frodo, because they all somehow knew that without him, their little group would never be complete again. They would try to stay in touch, but the obvious absence of Frodo would make it too hard and painful and they eventually wouldn’t manage to keep contact.  
Images flashed through his mind of these little hobbits, of who they were before their adventure, innocent, full of wit and jokes, and of who they were now, matured, grown-up.  
A sad smile covered his face and he turned around, where he saw the old Bilbo Baggins talking to Elrond and Galadriel full of excitement, probably asking tons of questions about the Undying Lands. It was like when they were visiting the elves back when it all started on their journey with the dwarfs, Bilbo had shown the same signs of excitement.  
Only one was missing now; where was Frodo?  
He looked around again ans the spotted him, sitting on a small bench looking thoughtfully into the distance to the direction of where his friends were still standing, now too far away and to small to make them out.

Before deciding to join his uncle on the journey to the Undying Lands, Frodo had had endless conversations with Gandalf about whether he should go. The thought of never seeing his friends again terrified him. He needed them, needed Merry and Pippin and - more than anyone – Sam. On the evening Frodo finally came to the conclusion that leaving Middle Earth was the right thing to do, it had been raining, many dark clouds had been decorating the sky, the howling of the wind had been audible everywhere in the shire and beyond its borders. They had been sitting in the living room of Bag End on horribly tiny chairs, talking about how same-sex marriages should be a thing in the Shire, since it was already common among the elves and didn’t harm anyone, when he suddenly announced:   
“I think I’m ready, Gandalf!”  
“Ready for what?” Gandalf asked.  
“For leaving. I think it’s time.”

He shook his head, his thoughts coming back to the present. Frodo would miss them, that was obvious, but he would finally be able to move on. And who knew if it had been a final goodbye with everyone?

The days on the ship seemed longer than usual. No one really spoke, not much anyways, everything was covered by that weird feeling of a new start mixed with sadness and nostalgia that even creeped over Gandalf. Even Bilbo, who had been so excited at the beginning of their journey, couldn’t stand the silence and the uneventful days. Everyone wanted to escape the barriers of the ship and when they finally saw a shore, everyone cheered and clapped.

Gandalf spent his time on the island by talking to the wisest and oldest elves. He enjoyed it there even though he rarely met the hobbits anymore. Thus he was surprised about how little time had passed when another ship entered the harbors of the Undying Lands. He didn’t thought it would happen so soon, but about one thing he had been right: It hadn’t been their final goodbye with everyone. Samwise Gamgee arrived with the ship and it was a pleasure to see the happiness on the faces of these two young hobbits, Samwise and Frodo, when they met again after so many years. From now on, he often heard the laughter of the hobbits echo around the island.

Many, many years later, a terrible storm tortured the island during a dark winter night. Gandalf could sense that something wasn’t normal, something just didn’t seem right, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.  
Suddenly the earth was shaking heavily and he could hear screams from the elves outside his window. Quickly he left his house and grabbed the nearest elf by the shoulders.  
“What is happening? Why are you screaming?”  
“The island…” The elf, Anairë, stuttered. “It’s breaking apart… it’s going down, Gandalf. It’s sinking!”  
He just shook his head, that couldn’t be true. Was she suggesting that the Undying Lands were - dying?  
Fortunately, his house wasn’t that far from the coast, so he just left her alone and made his way through the rain, the storm and the screaming, panicking elves.  
He was still a few hundred meters from were he thought the sea started when he heard an unsettling cracking noise. He looked down and even though it was fucking dark, he could see that the part of the island he just stepped on had separated from the rest and had already started floating away. Immediately he took a few steps back before trying to recognize what was happening further away. He squinted his eyes and stumbled another few steps back due to the shock when he discovered that what Anairë had said was actually true. The hundreds of meters of land that had been here were gone… just gone…  
Sunk into the ocean…  
Gandalf knew there wasn’t much he could do about it and even less time, most boats were probably already floating on the ocean and they needed to try to save as many as possible before the island sank completely. He turned around and ran back to the village.  
His first stop was Galadriel’s home, where he already found her standing outside.  
“Galadriel, the island…”  
“I know,” she interrupted him. “What’s your plan?”  
Even though there were many old and wise elves on the island, Gandalf’s opinion was always valued the most.  
“You need to go to the port. Look if there are still any ships anchoring and if so, keep them here. Get help if necessary. I will send everyone I see to you and as soon as there are enough people for one ship, they need to leave immediately. Do you understand?”  
He had given her the instructions as quickly as possible and she just nodded and hurried away.  
His next direction was the hobbit-hole of Frodo and Sam. He knew he was being selfish, but he wanted to save the hobbits at all costs. On his way there, he repeatedly shouted “Get to the port!” when he was running through the mass of panicking elves, but he wasn’t sure how many actually heard him.  
When he arrived at the hobbit hole, the door was standing wide open. Gandalf sneaked inside, trying not to make any noises. He didn’t know why the door wasn’t closed, but it definitly wasn’t a good sign.  Inside it was dark, no lights were on, and he couldn’t hear anything.  
“Frodo?” he called out.  
“Samwise?”  
Nothing. No answer, not the slightest noise. And after a quick search through the hobbit hole, his apprehensions were confirmed: The hobbits weren’t there. He knew he had no time to further search for them on the island, but there was one place he had wanted to go anyway before starting to take all the elves to the harbor: Bilbo’s home. He lived with some elves in a cozy house and it was indeed possible that Sam and Frodo were just visiting. Deep inside Gandalf knew that it was highly unlikely due to the open door, but he just ignored that thought on his way to Bilbo.  
Bilbo’s house was roughly in the middle of the big island, which meant that there were less panic because most of the elves living there didn’t knew what was happening, they probably thought it was only a normal earthquake. Most of them were still inside their homes, awake, but not worried or panicking. Same applied to Bilbo, he was sitting in his living room with Lindir, Galion and Nellas, his flatmates.  
“Gandalf! Long time no see! What a nice surprise that you are co…”  
Bilbo started to greet him, but Gandalf interrupted him.  
“There’s no time for that now, old friend, the island is sinking!”  
Everyone’s eyes widened in shock.  
“Sinking? But why - how?” Bilbo didn’t understand.  
“I don’t know why, but it’s happening. You all need to get out of here to the harbor-”  
Now Gandalf was disrupted by Nellas.  
“What are you talking about? The Undying Lands can’t just sink.”  
“Well, apparently they can,” Gandalf responded annoyed. They had no time for this.  
“Get to the harbor, Galadriel is awaiting you.”  
The elves got up and left the room, but when Bilbo wanted to follow then, Gandalf held him back.  
“Frodo and Sam aren’t here then, are they?”  
The hobbit looked at him surprised.  
“No, why?”  
“And you don’t know where they are?”   
Bilbo started to look worried.  
“They should be at home. Why are you asking, Gandalf?”  
The wizard just ignored his question and said: “You and your flatmates, you need to knock on every door and get the people to go to the harbor. Hurry.”  
With these words, he left the house.

For the next hour or so he told many elves to go the harbor to flee from the island, and while some immediately left, others weren’t understanding. When he was talking to Cirdan, the elf was stubborn.  
“I won’t leave this island, it won’t sink. It simply can’t. I will stay here under all circumstances.”  
Nothing helped them understand the seriousness of the situation, some elves just didn’t believe that the Undying Lands could sink.  
“This is our safe heaven, Gandalf. Nothing can harm us here” were the words of a rather young elven-woman.  
He didn’t want to, but he had no choice than to leave them alone and try and save as many others as he could.

Somehow he ended up near the harbor again and decided to check the situation there.  
Even though some land had started breaking apart and floating and sinking here too, it wasn’t as bad as where he lived since it was kept together by the buildings and the consolidation of the harbor. He found Galadriel right at the entry.  
“How is it going here, Galadriel? How many ships are there?”  
“Two ships have already left, one is leaving right now and there’s one more.”  
“Four ships? That’s all?”   
He had known that it wouldn’t be many, but four ships really weren’t enough at all. They barely covered a tenth of the population.  
“Did you see Bilbo?”  
“Yes, he left with the first ship. He’s save.”  
Gandalf was relieved, at least he was able to save one o f them.  
“What about Frodo and Sam? They didn’t happen to be here, did they?”  
“I haven’t seen them.”  
He sighed. That was what he’d expected, but hope dies last.  
“Galadriel, if there are enough people, get on the ship and leave. We can’t save everyone.”  
He knew it was hard for her to leave others behind, but she didn’t argue.  
“What about you, Gandalf?”  
“I will search for Frodo and Sam. They have to be somewhere.”  
“It’s too late, Gandalf, you know it.”  
Of course he knew it. He knew how unlikely it was to find them and save them in time, but he had to try.  
“And you know I can’t leave them here.”  
She shot him an angry look.  
“The last ship is almost full, Gandalf. You can’t stay behind and it’s not enough time to save the hobbits. The elves need you as their leader!”  
He knew she was right, but he couldn’t accept it.  
“The hobbits need me too!”  
“IT’S TOO LATE, GANDALF!”  
Galadriel didn’t let him respond, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the last ship.  
“You go on that fucking ship and you tell those fucking people that were leaving soon and that you fucking know what to do! I don’t care if you do, but they need to think you do, do you understand me?” she hissed.  
He obeyed, he knew he had no real chance in finding the hobbits anyway.  
After a few minutes in which he had held a short speech for the elves on the ship about how everything would turn out okay, the last ship left the sinking island, where thousands of elves and two little hobbits were now doomed to die.

Of course, no one knew where to go. Nobody had ever even considered leaving the island. The captain of the ship just tried to keep it on one course, where ever it might take them. But when nothing happened for days and days and days, the people started to get angry.  
Gandalf had shut himself in a room since they left the island and rarely came out. He couldn’t stop thinking about Frodo and Sam, these two innocent, brave souls who were now dead because he hadn’t been able to save them.  
However, one day someone knocked in his door.  
“No, I’m busy.”  
The door opened anyway.  
“I said I am busy,” he repeated without even looking to the door and expected his visitor to leave again.  
“Gandalf, I need to talk to you,” said a female elf.  
Now he looked up and saw an elf he had never talked to before.  
“My name is Vanya-Cala,” she introduced herself. She was beautiful, even for an elf.  
“You need to come out of this room. The people are afraid, they have questions.”  
“Well, I don’t have the answers,” he just responded.  
“But you are the only one they will listen to, Gandalf. Whether you want it or not, they have chosen you as their leader.”  
Gandalf wanted to ignore her, wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he knew it wasn’t fair, neither to her nor to all the other elves on the ship. It didn’t help anyone that all he did was thinking about Frodo and Sam and it didn’t even help them either. They were already dead anyway and now wasn’t the right time to mourn over their deaths.  
So Gandalf agreed to come out and talk to the elves. He managed to lower their anger and angst and that was already an improvement. He also talked a lot to Vanya-Cala, because she managed to distract him from what had happened.  
One day he was in his room when he suddenly heard everyone screaming. He ran outside and instantly bumped into Vanya-Cala.  
“What happened?” he asked her.  
“There’s land in sight!” she shouted happily.  
When he went to the end of the ship, he could see it too; still far away, but it meant hope and an end to this bloody journey on the ship.

When they finally had safe ground under their feet, Gandalf quickly sepereated himself from the others. His part as their leader was done, they would eventually find a place to settle down and live together, or they would divide and all find their own lives in this new world, but it wasn’t his responsibility anymore. He needed a new, fresh start without all the people constantly remaining him of his failure.   
He wandered around without a destination for a few days, just thinking and observing the nature around him. It all seemed so familiar to Middle Earth, it couldn’t be that different.   
Then he met the first people. They were men, ordinary men. Gandalf didn’t spoke to them, he just visited them from afar. He could understand their language, it was the same the people had spoken in Middle Earth.  
Over the next hundreds and thousand of years, Gandalf never lived anywhere for a long time. He started talking to the people though, and he found out that this was indeed Middle Earth (even though they didn’t call it that anymore), but he couldn’t find any dwarves or orcs or trolls and the eagles living here seemed stupid like normal birds. And when he asked the people about them, they looked at him as if he were stupid.  
He did meet an hobbit once and from him he could get some useful information. Most of the other races had died out and whoever was still alive hid from the men in fear of being killed. The men had forgotten that other races had ever existed. Except men hobbits were the biggest species now, it was one of their primary skills to hide from the big people after all. According to the hobbit there were also many wizards now, most not as powerful as wizards used to be. They were living peacefully among the men.  
After his conversation with the hobbit, Gandalf searched for these wizards and talked to many of them.   
Over the centuries, the society evolved and so did the magic. It started being more specific, wizards got wands, spells were created for different purposes (one of the first of them being ‘Lumos’ to create light at the end of the wand). Magic just wasn’t this kind of natural force anymore. 

About 10,000 years after the Undying Lands were destroyed, Gandalf knew it was his time to do something. This part of Middle Earth was now called England and it was a mess. Too many uneducated wizards and witches were jeopardizing the society. So he met up with 3 of the greatest wizards and witches of that time who knew him under the alias Godric Gryffindor and got them into opening a wizarding school. He did it subtly and if anyone asked one of the three everyone would say it had been their idea.  
“If I would open a school,” he said, “to teach the young ones, I would teach all those with brave deeds to their name. Braveness is the most valuable trait, and only those who deserve will be taught.”  
Helga Hufflepuff, a great witch, disagreed with his methods. “If I would open a school,” she said, “I would teach everyone who came there, willing to learn. Loyalty would be valued the most, and my students would be known as hard-working, honest and tolerant.”  
“Oh Helga, you’re being boring,” responded Salazar Slytherin, a very skilled wizard Gandalf considered his best friend. “If I would open a school, I would teach the ambitious ones, the ones with cleverness and cunning. Of course, the ones with pure blood heritage would succeed the most…”  
“Come on, Salazar,” Rowena Ravenclaw, an extraordinarily clever and creative witch, interrupted him. “Stop it with your pure blood bullshit. If I would open a school, my students would be witty and creative, but most of all wisdom would be valued.”  
And so they decided to open a school for young wizards and witches to teach them. Because of their different imaginations of how the perfect school should be, they also developed a system with four different houses, each named after one of them, where the students were sorted into depending on their personality traits.  
And when Helga asked what their motto should be, Gandalf and Salazar just looked at each other and burst out: “Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus!”  
Helga looked confused, she didn’t understand Latin, but Rowena did.  
“Seriously, guys? That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”  
“Why?” asked Gandalf.  
“It’s an important thing to remember if you ever meet one,” added Salazar grinning.  
And so eventually, 'Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon’ became the motto of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

After a few years, it was a well-known school in whole Britain. But the founders worried about how the kids would be sorted into their houses after their deaths. Well, at least three of them did. It was Gandalf who came up with a solution.  
“Look at my hat, guys. We can enchant it so it sorts the students for us.”  
Each one of them enchanted it so it would know in which house which traits were valued the most.  
“It shall be known as the Sorting Hat,” spoke Gandalf solemnly.

One day, Salazar came into Gandalf’s office.  
“Godric, you’ve got time?”  
“Come in, close the door and sit down,” he responded smiling. It always made him happy when Salazar visited him, due to all the stress at school they didn’t hang out that often anymore.  
“I need to talk to you,” Salazar began. Well, that didn’t sound fun.  
“It’s about our students, uhm, a specific type of our students…”  
“What are you talking about, Salazar?” Gandalf interrupted him.  
“Muggle-Borns.”  
He sighed. That had always been a thing they didn’t really talk about, Gandalf knew how Salazar thought about them and Salazar knew that Gandalf didn’t approve if his opinion.  
“Why do we need to talk about them? They do good in school, so what?”  
“I think we shouldn’t allow them to attend our school.”  
Gandalf had know that one of the valuable traits Salazar had enchanted the Sorting Hat with for his house had been pure blood, but this?  
“You can’t be serious, Salazar. You’re kidding. Please say you’re kidding.”  
“I’m not kidding,” the wizard responded slightly angry. “Why would I be? Come on, Godric, you have to admit, they aren’t really wizards. They are just some filthy muggles who-”  
Gandalf interrupted him.  
“IT’S ENOUGH, SALAZAR. What are you even thinking? You know that my opinion’s clearly different from yours, so why do you even bother coming to me about it? You know my answer.”  
Salazar stroked his beard, a thing he only did when he was angry.  
“I thought you had matured by now, Godric. I always thought you were smart, why don’t you see how wrong it is to have them go to school here? It’s a bad influence for the pure bloods.”  
Gandalf couldn’t believe what he heard.  
“You know what a bad influence for our student is? You apparently with your hateful comments. I’m going to talk to Helga and Rowena what we’re going to do about it,” - he could see Salazar smiling, thinking he had won - “and by it I mean you. I don’t think you should stay a teacher here, Salazar. Have a good day.”  
But Salazar wasn’t ready to leave.  
“Oh come on, Godric. Do you really want to let these bloody mud-bloods ruin our relationship?”   
Now he had crossed a line.  
“No, Salazar, they aren’t the ones ruining our relationship. You are. Now please leave my office,” Gandalf replied calmly, even though he was breaking apart internally. How could his best friends use such hateful words?  
“But-” Salazar tried to respond.  
“LEAVE. NOW.”

On that evening, Gandalf talked to Helga and Rowena about what Salazar had said. They were both shocked and agreed on to not letting him stay teacher after the end of the school year.  
“I’ll talk to him in the morning,” he promised, but on the next day, Salazar was gone and they never saw him again.

Gandalf often thought about Salazar. He thought about how perfect their relationship could have been if there hadn’t been this stupid argument. But he knew he couldn’t change anything and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

When it was time for Godric Gryffindor to die, Gandalf faked his own death and escaped like he had done many times before. He knew he would return to Hogwarts one day, but now it was time for him to do something else. He had to build several wizarding schools all over the world so that the young wizards and witches could get proper education. One of them was Durmstrang Institute over two hundred years later by persuading the great Bulgarian witch Nerida Vulchanova to do so. He stayed there as a teacher, even when after Nerida’s mysterious death Harfang Munter became headmaster of the school. Harfang was a dark wizard, he changed the curriculum of the school, so it contained more martial magic, study of the Dark Arts and duelling. He also was the one to ban muggle-borns from attending their school.   
A few years later, the headmasters of the three big wizarding schools Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons established the Triwizard Tournament, a competition between the schools. Held every five years, it would be hosted by each school in turn. Each school would be represented by a champion, who had to compete three tasks. The judges would be the headmasters or headmistresses of the schools. The first ever Triwizard Tournament was held in Beauxbatons and Gandalf was left in charge of the school for that period of time. Because of that he had no idea what happened during the competition. But when everyone came back, Harfang explained to him that their champion, who hadn’t won, was a shame for their school and would be punished properly. That student didn’t come to class for over two weeks.

When his time at the school was over, Gandalf had to leave, even though he knew that the kids would now have nobody who wasn’t as cold-hearted as Harfang.

He founded some more schools over the next couple of centuries all over the world, until there were 9 in total. He wasn’t involved in the opening of all, but the majority.   
Then it was time for him to return to England under a new alias. It had become harder and harder to create fake identities, people wanted to know family and old friends. So every time he took a new name, he had to plan it and change the memories of several people who would then remember him being in their lives forever. It was complicated and exhausting, but he had no other way.  
He came back because he had seen something in some other countries that he believed England needed too: A Ministry of Magic. hHe hadn’t been in England for a while, but when he last visited, the wizarding world had been a mess. They had the Wizards’ Council, but it was less organized and structured than a Ministry. For that, he befriended Ulick Gamp, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. With him, he discussed the idea of a Ministry of Magic and thankfully, Ulick supported it. Somehow they managed to convince the majority of the Wizard’s Council.   
The British Ministry of Magic was founded in 1707.   
Gandalf was offered a job there, but he declined. He knew that he had a higher influence right now as Ulick’s friend, who now was the first Minister of Magic. Even though the minister’s greatest legacy had been the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, one of the most important things that happened during his term was the outlawing of the three curses Cruciatus, Imperius and Avada Kedavra, highly influenced by Gandalf. They were now known as the Unforgivable Curses.

Shortly after Ulick retired in 1718, Gandalf killed his alias again. He came back as Eldritch Diggory with a plan: He needed to be Minister of Magic. Now that he couldn’t affect Ulick anymore, he needed to be minister himself to change things, and several things needed to be changed.  
In 1733 he ran for office and defeated Perseus Parkinson for reelection. His first action was to establish an Auror recruitment programm.   
A few years later, Gandalf visited Azkaban, the prison for the wizards in Britain. He didn’t really want to, but it was like an official thing and he had to go. There were no words to describe his uncomfortableness, his angst. This was the first time in his long life he’d ever met a dementor and he was pretty sure he’d never felt worse. Those things were bloody awful and he knew what he had to do.  
In the following years he fought for the closure of Azkaban, and when he realized that that would never gonna happen, at least for the removal of dementors as guards. And even though the ones actually deciding were the wizards at the ministry, he knew that the opinion of the people mattered too. A survey showed that it was pretty much 50/50, many people supported him, but as many people disagreed with him.  
He was reelected in 1747 anyways, but he knew that his enemies would try to attack him to prevent a decision of the committee regarding Azkaban. What he didn’t expect were attackers from inside the ministry, but with his prepared plan he managed to survive his attempted murder. But he knew they wouldn’t rest until he was dead, so he killed Eldritch Diggory by dragon pox and fled, giving up his plan of removing the dementors from Azkaban.  
He then had to hide for a bit, the possibility of someone recognizing him was too high. In that time he decided to never go into politics again, it was exhausting and definitely not worth it. Instead, he wanted to return to Hogwarts as a teacher.   
He built the perfect identity, visited some people and changed their memories. He then returned to Hogwarts in 1931 as **Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**.


End file.
